Dinner in Silver Keep
by Zudinmulamshius
Summary: One shot. Drizzt, Cattibrie, and Bruenor have an interesting encounter... it seems someone or something has taken up residence north of Fell Pass.


Dinner in Silver Keep

Disclaimer stuff so the Lawyerborg won't assimilate me: All of the silver dragons, their lair, and Keryth the Storyteller are mine. Drizzt, Catti-brie, Bruenor, Mithril Hall, Jarlaxle the drow, Artemis Entreri, and pretty much the rest of Faerun belong to Mr. Salvatore and the oober-spoff DnD peoples. I have no intention to steal or profit from any of this. I'd just mess it up if I did own it, and that'd be no fun.

Well, here we go!

Drizzt squinted up at the small square of grey in the mountainside. "That's new," he commented. He settled his cowl a little further over his eyes, trying to block the stinging glare of sunlight off of snow.

"Ye be thinking it'll be trouble?" the auburn haired woman standing beside him asked. Catti-brie had no trouble in observing the anomaly, being human.

"No, but I am curious." Drizzt replied. "It almost looks like some sort of small castle."

"Suren I'll make 'em move out fast if they ain't nice! We got tunnels in that mountain. I don't want me miners running into trouble." Bruenor gruffed, thunking his one-horned helmet onto his head. "Come on, then. We haven't got all day. Get going and we'll see who's put down on me mountain!"

The climb was nothing difficult for the friends, who had certainly experienced far more difficult terrain on their many journeys. There almost seemed to be a path up to the mountainside keep, gouged deep into the stone by many claws. Drizzt examined these carefully, but the amount of overlap made it impossible to discern what had left the trail, other than the fact that it had very big claws. That fact led the friends to ascend with a little more caution, none wishing to be caught off-guard by some waiting beast.

The keep, though small from below, was much larger when viewed from directly in front. It was carved from the living stone, and double doors of what seemed to be pure adamant were set into the front expertly. Bruenor confirmed the nature of the metal shortly. Upon solving one puzzle of the mountain keep and failing to find a lock, he lifted his big fist and pounded on the door three times.

The three friends waited for a while before anything happened.

"I can't reach!" a small voice cried in Common from behind the door. Scratchy sounds followed. "Sunathearux, I can't reach!"

"Keep trying, you can do it."

"Thurirlmiirik, ye stupid! Turn it!"

"Martivirjhank, Mommy said not to call names! Why don't YOU try?!"

"Let me open it..."

"Yeah! Ocuirirthosarcaniss doesn't HAVE to reach!"

"Shuddup, Aribaeshravaeri!"

The door creaked open, and five horned heads peered out. Bruenor let out a surprised shout at the sight, and all five of the little creatures screamed. Only one was brave enough to remain staring out the door, but just barely—it was shivering as much as Bruenor was.

Once again, small voices came from behind the door.

"Aribaeshravaeri! What was that thing?!"

"I don't know! I've never seen anything like that, how should I know?!"

"I'm scaaared!"

"I thought you were supposed to know of the denizens of the area, hm Aribaeshravaeri? Are we stumped?"

"Yeah, but I've just started studying! You were blessed, you don't have to!"

"I want M-Ma to come ho-home!"

"Did you see all that orange fur on it?! And it only had one horn! Martivirjhank, what are you doing?! It might eat you!"

The last creature did not move from the door. Bruenor got to his feet and moved slowly towards the little thing. "It barely be bigger'n a dog," he mused, bending to get a better look at the thing.

"Ye better n-not come closerer, or or or suren I'll-I'll be eatin' ye!" the thing declared shakily in a voice like a little boy's, still mostly behind the door. "Ye d-don't scare me!"

Bruenor looked back at Drizzt, who shrugged. Catti-brie was muffling giggles behind one hand, obviously enamored with the little whatever-it-was. "Drizzt, methinks it be a baby!" she whispered to her husband, who nodded his agreement.

"A baby what, though?" he mused. Drizzt walked to join Bruenor and knelt to be on a similar level as the small creature in the doorway. "Hello. What manner of—"

"DA!!" the creature cried. It threw itself at Drizzt, bowling him over. Four more silver streaks followed, piling onto the unfortunate drow. "Da, why ye bringin' back... HEY! Yer not me Da! Run away!"

All five creatures leaped off of the drow just as fast as they had leaped on. Now that they were out of the doorway, Drizzt got a good look at the little things while he picked himself up. "Well, by Mielikki herself. Catti, Bruenor, they're dragons. Baby dragons!" he exclaimed, looking back to his wife. She approached cautiously and knelt beside her husband to observe the little ones, who flocked together nervously just out of reach. All ten wings shivered, and even the biggest one was nervous out in the open.

"This be where ye living?" Catti-brie asked, speaking the Common words gently. The five baby dragons did not respond at first—they looked at each other and looked back at the human woman with wide eyes.

"Our... our Ma said not to t-talk with strangers," the smallest supplied. Bruenor let out a loud laugh at this, startling all five babies. They scrambled behind Drizzt and Catti-brie, terrified.

"Ye just did!" Bruenor guffawed, stumping up to his two companions. "Suren yer ma would be mighty proud o' ye five!" he said to them. The five babies were peering out from around and between Drizzt and Catti-brie, quickly forgetting the drow and the human's status as strangers when confronted by the red-bearded dwarf king.

The biggest of the babies nudged the little one with one wing, hissing a not-so-nice comment. The little one took that poorly. "Ma said not to call names!" it cried.

Drizzt turned to regard the five as the largest and smallest of the younglings argued. "Now, now. Let's not fight—not much gets done with that. Are you the ones who live here?" Again, he was met with apprehensive glances. "Perhaps would you tell us if we tell you our names? The big man with the red beard is Bruenor Battlehammer, the king of Mithril Hall to the south. I am Drizzt Do'Urden, and this is my wife Catti-brie."

The smallest baby's jaw dropped as the introductions were made. "You're Mister Drizzit?! The REAL Drizzit?" it asked, looking as awestruck as a dragon could. Drizzt nodded, amused by the look on its face. Dragons were the last ones he expected to look awestruck at anything.

"He is, little one, but his name be Drizzt, not Drizzit!" Catti-brie chuckled good-naturedly. The little one looked from her to Drizzt and back again, nodding quietly. It turned to its siblings and whispered a few things to them in Draconic. Drizzt listened in.

"Mister Drizzi... Drizzt is a ranger, just like Da, guys! Aribaeshravaeri, I think he's one of Mielikki's followers, too!" it whispered excitedly. The baby with green eyes gasped.

"Really?" it asked, glancing at Drizzt. Looking back at its sibling, it leaned close to its ear. "I think he's listening to us." The smallest turned to regard Drizzt warily.

Drizzt simply smiled. "I hope you don't mind," he replied in Draconic. All five heads snapped to look at him in awe.

"He be talkin' us-talk!" the biggest cried, backing away. It bumped into Bruenor and looked up at him from its position at his feet.

"Hello, little one. Never seen a dwarf afore?" Bruenor chuckled. The baby shook its head and gathered its wings closer about itself, a little more than intimidated. "Well, I never seen a baby dragon afore, either! What kind ye be?"

"Silver dragons—we're not bad, don't eat us!" the smallest squeaked. This brought laughs from all three adventuring companions.

"We wouldn't do that! We're not bad, either." Drizzt laughed.

One of the babies nodded. Its scales seemed to shine more like platinum than silver, and its eyes were deep blue. "They aren't bad, don't worry. They're probably cold, and that's all. Would you like to come in?" it asked, gesturing to the door with one wing. "Ma fired up the hearth before she and Da went down below to get our dinner."

Drizzt stood and brought Catti-brie up with him. "We should go in, Catti. You shouldn't be out in such cold, what with the little one."

Catti-brie pouted. "I only just figured it out yesterday, ye worrisome drow! I'll be fine!" she declared, but she let herself be led in anyway. Bruenor brought up the rear, the biggest of the baby dragons trotting by his side.

"Mister dwarf, why does yer big thing have all those marks on it?" the dragon asked, pointing one wing at Bruenor's axe.

"This be me axe, an' those marks are how many monsters I've a-whacked with it!" Bruenor laughed. The baby's eyes grew wide.

"That many?!" it cried, eyes huge. "Were they orcs?!" A nod from Bruenor seemed to multiply the baby's awe. "I wanna be a dwarf like ye!!"

That drew another one of Bruenor's guffaws out into the large antechamber of the keep.

An hour of storytelling and answering questions had passed when a great commotion came from behind a door next to the hearth in the dining room, just to the right of where the friends and the baby dragons sat. The door burst open and a frazzled drow stumbled through, face and hair singed and armor sizzling. "I hate wizards!" he cried, tossing a bag onto the table before he noticed the five dragons and three travelers at the hearth. He blinked, and, in a heartbeat, whipped the biggest bow Drizzt had ever seen into an aimed and drawn position. "Who in the Nine Hells are you?!" he demanded. Drizzt stood with hands wide in a peaceful gesture. The bow tilted down a little, and the string was relaxed.

"Not here to harm anyone, certainly!" Drizzt said. He was drowned out by another unison cry of "DA!" from the baby dragons, who gave the new drow the same treatment they had given Drizzt earlier. The bow clattered noisily to the floor.

"Da, that's Mister Drizzt and King Bruenor and Catti-brie!" the smallest cried.

"He's a ranger just like you, Da!" squealed the green-eyed baby.

"The dwarf has a big thing calleded an axe with marks all over it and he says he's killeded that many orcs! Can I be a dwarf, Da, can I?!" begged the biggest.

"They won't hurt us, Da, I asked the North Lord if they were good. They all are," the platinum one noted.

"They were the ones who killed Shimmergloom!" exclaimed the last, who was a bit more serpentine than its siblings.

The grounded drow laughed and drew in a wheezing breath. "That's wonderful!" he coughed, smiling genuinely. "I can't breathe, kids!"

The five babies got off of the man and allowed him to stand, but just as quickly mobbed the next person through the door. This time it was a female drow, equally singed and smoking, who did not fall over when the five swarmed her. She held her balance and placed her bag on the table next to the first newcomer's, patting each baby lovingly. "So we have esteemed guests today, hm? I thought I told you not to talk to strangers, but this time it's okay. Our guests are more than welcome. Sit down at the table and let me get dinner going." She set each baby down individually, brushed herself off, and then turned to Drizzt and his companions. "I hope you haven't had to tolerate them for too long!" she chuckled, blue eyes sparkling. "I'm their mother, Orncaex of Silver Keep. This is my mate, Ornsjach of Silver Keep. I hope you don't mind me asking what would bring you so far north of your home?"

Bruenor got to his feet and held out one hand. "Well met, Orncaex! Bruenor Battlehammer, Tenth King o' Mithril Hall's me name. Me friends are Drizzt Do'Urden and me daughter Catti-brie. We had heard of some old white dragon causing problems in Fell Pass, but we ended up seeing yer keep! Suren I wasn't going to just pass it by, so we knocked. These five answered."

Orncaex looked back at the five baby dragons, who sat in a neat row at the table. They all grinned at once, trying to seem innocent. She sighed and shook her head, smiling as any mother would at her children's antics. "Well, they're a curious lot to be sure..." she chuckled. "I hope they at least introduced themselves once they figured you were okay to let in!" A pointed, humorous look was sent to the littlest one.

The smallest squeaked. Her mother laughed again.

"You can't be a proper bard without proper manners, silly!" Ornsjach scolded, setting his bow against the wall. "Go on, all of you, introduce yourselves."

The smallest piped up first. "I'm Thurirlmiirik, and I wanna be a bardess!" she declared proudly.

"I'm Martivirjhank, an' I'm the toughestest outta all us!" said the biggest proudly. He puffed up his chest and grinned, putting more of his ego on display than his strength.

"And I'm Sunathearux, aspiring Sacred Warder of Bahamut," the platinum-scaled little one added. She nodded her head politely, a strong contrast to her brother's attitude.

"I am the second brother, Ocuirithosarcaniss. I dabble here and there in magic—I have a knack for it, hence the name." said the serpentine little one, eyeing Drizzt, Catti-brie, and Bruenor with one of his striking ice blue eyes.

"I'm Aribaeshravaeri, and I'm a druid." The last youngling, the one with green eyes, gave the guests a toothy grin. "And this is my friend Jarlaxle."

Drizzt nearly choked until he saw the little black wolf pup peering over the table edge. "Where... where did you get that name?" he stuttered. Catti-brie and Bruenor were both quiet. The three knew _a_ Jarlaxle—he was a drow, flamboyantly dressed with a personality to match. A wide-brimmed hat, pinned up on one side with the feather of a diatryma held there, covered his bald head, and dozens of rings and bangles adorned his wrists, fingers, and ears. His boots were high and wood-heeled, and the clacking of his jewelry and his heels could be silenced at his whim. He wore a cape that shimmered in every color and an eye patch that served some other purpose than to cover a lost eye, for he switched it from eye to eye occasionally. His vest was anything but conservatively cut, showing his well-muscled abdomen and hinting that the man was more than a little loose. On top of all of his wild dress, the drow was the founder and leader of Bregan D'aerthe, a powerful mercenary group of drow based in the Underdark city of Menzoberranzan, and a mighty two-weapon fighter. Yes, they knew Jarlaxle well, and hearing his name here unnerved them just a little.

Orncaex laughed. "She heard it when we visited Heliogabalus in Damara," she explained, looking over at the pup. "My friends Ilnezhara and Tazmikella—copper dragon sisters sharing a hoard—hired a drow and a human—both of these guys had the weirdest hats, I swear—and the drow was absolutely charming. Aribaeshravaeri just adored him. His name was Jarlaxle, so Aribaeshravaeri named her companion after him. Ugh, but the human, some Entreri guy, was just a jerk. Sat there scowling like he hated the whole world." Orncaex made a face, swinging one hand as if to slap the distasteful man.

Drizzt blinked. How odd some connections could be.

Ornsjach clearly held no love for Jarlaxle, as he sniffed in disdain when his mate complimented the eccentric. "He was just weird."

"You're just jealous of his hat." Orncaex teased, knowing full well her mate's jealousy. She saw Drizzt, Catti-brie, and Bruenor still standing and motioned to the table. "Oh, you can sit! Take a seat, take a seat. You probably prefer your meat cooked, don't you? Yes, probably, I'll put one on the spit..." Orncaex said, tugging the two sacks to the floor before the hearth. Drizzt and Catti-brie took a seat big enough to fit both of them, and Bruenor found a chair high enough he could sit and reach the table.

A familiar scent rose and drifted through the room, one Drizzt hadn't smelled in a while. "Is that... rothe?" he asked, turning towards Orncaex to look at the spit. To his surprise, a dragon stood before the flames, much bigger than any of the babies. It nodded.

"You betcha! Fresh from Menzoberranzan, about eighty miles east and south-ish down the Underdark tunnels. They never know there're dragons borrowing their rothe, anyway. Bregan D'aerthe accepted us readily enough, so we go in and out as we please." The dragon's voice was the same as the female drow's, identifying it as Orncaex. Drizzt found that he really wasn't too surprised. These dragons were probably eccentric even to their own kin. Considering that, if something strange happened, it was probably normal for this family.

"Both Ma and Da are a little odd," said the platinum-scaled youngling. She smiled (Drizzt quickly decided dragon smiles were a little frightening). "Ma was born a red, like Hephaestus—you have met him twice, as Bahamut tells me—and took up a neutral alignment. So enraged was Tiamat that my Lord saved her by making her a silver. Da was once a construct. Ma wished him real... he was upset, but Ma finally convinced him she had meant no harm. I guess you could say they're both pretty unique."

Ornsjach rolled his eyes. "Sunathearux, don't scare the guests, please. I'm sorry, but she's... do you know Cadderly Bonaduce? He's a great priest of Deneir, to the east in the Snowflake Mountains. They're alike—both of their gods speak right through them sometimes," he explained.

"Ye be the weirdest bunch o' folks I ever met." Bruenor stated simply. All seven of the dragons burst out laughing.

The rothe on the spit was soon well-cooked, and Orncaex set it on the table on a copper platter, motioning for her guests to take their fill. She turned to the second rothe, still in its bag, and sliced the fabric. She opened the door by the hearth, tossed the rothe out, and sucked in a deep breath. Drizzt realized she was about to use the breath weapon dragons were notorious for, and was assured of his correct guess when a gust of cold, cold wind rushed into the room. Out came the rothe, frozen solid. Orncaex flung it to the floor, shattering the frozen beast like so much ice. She gave her children each a good portion, and served her mate and herself the largest parts. She left the room momentarily and returned with a large keg and many mugs hung by their handles on a rope.

"Hey, dragon! Those be me clan's works!" Bruenor exclaimed, pointing to the silver and gold mugs. Sure enough, the Clan Battlehammer crest of a foaming mug of beer was emblazoned on each.

Ornsjach and Orncaex both grinned. "Fine works such as these were irresistible for us. A simple disguise is all it takes! Surely you remember a rowdy gnome couple with a penchant for a lute and a flute? That's one of our many. Our best friend is Keryth the Storyteller. Plenty of our companions and connections are very fond of your wares, and visit whenever they're in the area."

Drizzt and Catti-brie looked at each other, shocked. There were dozens of occasions they had encountered that pair of crazy gnome bards, and Keryth the Storyteller was well-known in the taverns of the Undercity! Naturally, that led to another, almost disturbing thought—how many other dragons had paid their home a visit? How many dragons _were_ there?

Only the dragons would ever know. That was the way they liked it.


End file.
